


Settling that one old matter

by Searofyr



Series: Born to uncertain parents, something about dragons, way too early [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: M/M, Nerevarine Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Searofyr/pseuds/Searofyr
Summary: From the journal of Lothryn Simero, House Telvanni, Vvardenfell and Clockwork City 2E.Lothryn, Nerevarine and very grudgingly coming to terms with his identity, and his partner Divayth, who wasn’t planning to return to Clockwork City, visit Clockwork City due to circumstances – leading to an overdue conversation.
Relationships: Divayth Fyr/Nerevarine, Sotha Sil/Male Dunmer Vestige
Series: Born to uncertain parents, something about dragons, way too early [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997554
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Settling that one old matter

**Author's Note:**

> [Premise inspired by a not terribly serious conversation with my friend HircinesHuntingGround about how the skeleton key got lost again. The rest went from there.]

It started with that damned key being gone. The skeleton key. I don’t remember how the conversation even got there; our conversations go in all kinds of directions and associations that don’t always appear logical in retrospect, and suddenly we’re at a specific Daedric artefact.

Divayth went to his collection and came back empty-handed. “It wasn’t there. Do you remember where you put it that one time?”

“Me?”

“You put it away, didn’t you?” A small smile played around his lips. “Of course it’s been some time. It’s natural for you not to remember. But try to think about what you may have opted for at the time.”

I had to match his smile, “As if I could forget. But. You took it and put it back, didn’t you?”

Alarm and realization showed on his face, for as much as he lets anything show. “I see.”

We had a problem. “Alright,” I said. “Let’s think. I do remember: I woke up, and it was gone, so I figured you were being gallant and had put it back in its place already. Safer that way anyway.”

“And when I woke up before you, it was gone, so I figured you’d gotten up at night and put it back. You’re usually the one who’s more concerned about things, so it seemed to make sense at the time.”

I grinned. “We were both not thinking too straight, were we? And then we forgot to think about it again.” I looked around. “One more option. Sulan?”

Our pocket watcher came floating in. I know that body language. He was mighty pleased with himself. That was a relief.

“Found the guilty party, I think,” I said. “Sulan, would you have taken the skeleton key a few years ago, and would you remember where you put it?”

He responded in his own language that he had indeed, and finally we’d noticed, and that we should go search.

We did him the favour, belatedly complimenting his successful prank, but failed to retrieve the key. So in the end we had to ask.

He revealed that he’d hidden it with a number of Daedric research specimens in the frost chamber in the basement. We hadn’t paid attention to those in years, even before the key got lost.

A thorough search of the long-neglected frost chamber did not produce any results except for the information that several specimens had gotten lost, and we should really pay more attention to all the stuff we keep in this tower once in a while. You forget. And then all kinds of things get lost. First the original key to the shackles, and then the skeleton key, likely along with the specimens.

“We need to keep better order,” I mumbled. “This is a mess.”

“But you know we won’t,” Divayth said.

“Yeah, I know.”

With that, our watcher was out of ideas, as well.

“We should tell Sil, shouldn’t we?” I said.

Divayth pursed his lips. “You know I’d said I wouldn’t return there. Or not yet, at least.”

“We lost the fucking skeleton key. He should know about that. Unless he already knows. Still the better gesture. It was with us for safekeeping.”

“Polite of you to say ‘us’. It was my task, and I failed it.”

“It’s ‘us’ now,” I said. “Everything is. Anyway, let’s tell him.”

He sighed, then resigned into the necessity. “I’m going alone.”

“No, you’re not.”

“This is my responsibility. And it’s too dangerous.”

“It shouldn’t be dangerous now. Not like when you went with Salyn and the whole city was a death trap.”

“It’s always dangerous.”

I regarded him, trying to figure out the angle from which he refused to see sense. “He’s my friend, too. We’ve talked even before I met you.”

“That’s what I’m concerned about.”

I frowned. “Really? You think something’s going on with us? You know that’s rubbish. I only want you, and I took an oath, and I mean it.”

His expression softened. “Of course I don’t think that.”

“Then what? Do I have reason to be jealous instead?”

“What?” He sighed. “Of course that’s nonsense, too. I meant my oath, too, and there was never anything like that. Fine. Talking around the issue will only lead to stupid misunderstandings, I see. Then I’ll have to be more forthcoming.” His eyes met mine. “You know what I suspect you are. I think it’s best if you two don’t meet.”

“Oh come on, please not that Nerevarine thing again.”

“Can you deny its plausibility?”

“I can indeed.”

“I at least want to be cautious,” he said. “You have to see the reasoning behind that.”

“I don’t see anything of the sort. Only superstition. I’m a mage with a few issues and irresponsible or heartless parents who didn’t want me, like thousands of others out there. Besides. You’re conveniently missing that bit about the immunity to disease. I’m the opposite of immune to disease, I catch everything. My time in Murkmire was mostly spent on swamp fevers.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I admit that part is puzzling. But this is prophecy. It’ll show its hand soon enough.” His fingers traced patterns where they lay.

I sighed. “You do that, you can even say the kind of nonsense you are, and I can’t mind too much.”

He gave me a knowing smile. “Good.”

Fucking… “I’m still coming along. I don’t care if you think I’m an ancient warlord, I don’t even care if I _am_ an ancient warlord – ridiculous as that is. I’m not letting you go alone and feeding into that irrational fear with that. That only builds up more nonsense and tragedy later.”

His fingers stopped their pattern and gripped me tightly instead. “You know I love that you are like you are. But I still think this is unwise.”

“We’ve met. We’ve talked. Nothing happened.”

“Before you were aware.”

“As if I could hurt him. I won’t. And he won’t hurt me either. He’s the sensible one out of the three. And the one who cares about anyone. Not that I’ve dealt with the others, but I’d trust them much less.”

Silence, while we both contemplated what I’d said and the possible implications.

I broke it first. “And with that, I’m at least two-thirds wiser than Nerevar.”

Entering Clockwork City was no issue this time.

Of course I was blown away by it. First time I saw it in person and not projection backgrounds from conversations.

Sil and Salyn greeted us, and Salyn added with a content grin to Divayth, “I knew you’d be back sometime. Getting over the other stuff?” He looked to me. “Bet I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“Only very indirectly,” Divayth said. “I’m afraid this visit is timed more by an emergency situation than by anything to do with my personal disposition.” He paused for a moment. “Though I won’t pretend I’m displeased at seeing the two of you again. Still, there are more important matters at hand.”

“I know,” Sil said. Of course he did. “I know what you’re going to say, and I appreciate you coming here to say it. Let us talk somewhere we won’t be overheard.”

He opened a portal that led us to the basement of an observatory, looking lived-in and furnished partly in that peculiar way of Clockwork City and partly like a Dunmer house with the occasional multicultural odds and ends. And endless books. So many books. Rivalling our own collection. And notes and experimental set-ups. Including more than a few Daedric tomes and items, specialising in the Shivering Isles. Salyn’s contribution, clearly, and he was getting away with it, and in Clockwork City. Impressive in itself. All in all, the kind of place that’ll never look organised no matter the effort.

I turned to Divayth. “They’re us.”

He snorted. “I can see that.”

“So,” Salyn said, “three of you know what’s going on; I don’t. I find that unfair.”

Sil answered for us. “They came here to say they lost the skeleton key.”

“Ah,” Salyn said, “Daedric artefact, and a high profile one; that’ll happen. They leave at some point to… go and corrupt more mortals.” He grinned. “I don’t deal with them, they’re a hassle, and they’re always a crutch.” He side-eyed Divayth. “No offence intended. And I mean that in your case, you actually do interesting work with them, and you’re effective. But that’s cause you think for yourself. Most people who gather them just follow along and think now that they’ve got them, their work’s done, and they can relax and skate along. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The true work begins there, resisting them, retaining your own thoughts and superimposing them over the will of the artefact and its Prince… Well, you know what I mean. I’m getting on a tangent here. But in any case… It’s no big deal, is it?” He looked at Sil.

Sil smiled and shook his head. “While I shouldn’t publicly agree with your reasoning, this isn’t public, and you’re not incorrect.” He turned to Divayth and me. “It was going to disappear again sooner or later. You kept it hidden away in a time of crisis. That is all I could ask for. And I thank you for that.”

“Yeah,” I said, “rather well hidden away. Got our pocket watcher to thank for that.”

Salyn raised his eyebrows. “First. I want to hear that story.”

“It’s a bit of a stupid story, I’m afraid,” I said. “And somewhat classified.”

He grinned. “I see, I see. Maybe later then?”

“Maybe if I’m drunk enough.”

“That won’t be a problem. Second: You didn’t bring Sulan. I consider that a prime offence.”

“Last I checked,” Divayth said, “Clockwork City had defences against Daedra. I assumed they would be intact this time around. Make an exception, and you can see our watcher again.”

“Or you could visit us on Nirn,” I added and turned to Divayth. “Right?”

He sighed. “Might as well at this point. It doesn’t seem…” He shook his head.

Sil had been observing us for a while. Now he addressed both of us. “I don’t think you need to worry, Divayth. While Lorkhan’s chosen tend to give me more riddles than usual, I’m rather certain there is no threat here.” He paused, looking as if calculating something, then looked into my eyes. “I’m not wrong, am I? Nerevar?”

“Oh fuck,” I said.

After the initial settling, the first thing I asked him was, “How sure are you?”

“I know,” Sil said.

“Know absolutely clearly, or only know like you sometimes think you know things, and then one of us changes things around on you?”

“I know,” he repeated. “Many things about you are uncertain, as they are about Salyn, but about this there is absolute certainty.”

I sighed. “Well, fuck.” Don’t think about it too much. Don’t think about all the ways all that stuff that’s been piling up makes sense and gets validated instead of staying on the scrap heap of irrational issues and dreams where it comfortably belonged until now.

To distract myself from the emotional impact, I turned to Divayth. “You were right. Good thing we didn’t have a proper bet, cause you’d have won it.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, then reached over and ran his fingers through my hair. “You know it doesn’t change anything. Wouldn’t have in either case.”

I nodded slowly. “Good. Thanks. That is good to hear. I know you’ve said it before, but…”

“I know.”

“You’re one of the few people I can believe that.”

“I know,” he said again.

I had to smile. Well. Time to face the rest of the world. In the form of my two friends here. One of whom had apparently helped kill my former self. So I turned to him first.

“So. You’ve made your point. And I accept it. It makes sense. As annoying as that is. And… Ah, damn it all, this is not the first time I’m thinking about this after all. Just tried not to, but I did. In any case. Don’t call me Nerevar from here on out. I’m Lothryn. And I insist on that. Nerevar is dead, and that’s a blessing.”

He looked stricken for a moment, then deep in thought.

I sighed. This was on me now. He couldn’t say the necessary things, cause this is him, and he can’t. “I insist on being myself, and that’s only possible cause Nerevar is dead. And if you three hadn’t killed him, or me at the time, whichever, I would have died eventually, but that wouldn’t have gotten Azura so pissed she brought me back as a new person. And I happen to _like_ being this person. Flaws none withstanding. Hassles none with standing. It’s me, and I insist on my self. So you did me a favour. And… Well, just look at you. You’re my friend. Again. More than before. And I can’t help but like you. So I’ll forgive you. Oh fuck it, I already have, long ago, since this stupid thought first came up. Or maybe before that. I never had anything against you as long as I lived – this life I mean. It’s different in the other cases. There was something there… Damn it, I’m rambling. How does one have this kind of conversation?”

“Thank you,” Sil whispered.

“Oh fuck, come here.” I hugged him, clearly awkwardly; I’m not good at any of this. When he returned it, I ended up clinging to him, tears filling my eyes. “I’m bad at this,” I said, “but… All’s forgiven. Completely. Don’t worry about it anymore. This has been going on for too long, and it’s stupid. And Azura better forgive you, too, I insist on that. At least you. And… fuck. But you’ll like me, right? Are we friends again? Fuck, this is pathetic, but if any situation warrants that, I guess this is one.”

“Of course,” he just said, and I could hear he wasn’t able to say much more at that moment. So we left it at that.

After I let go of him, I looked into the round. Back at him. Had a thought that was nagging at me until I spoke it. Lorkhan’s influence maybe, or maybe just my own, but I bet he approved in any case.

I inhaled, exhaled. “Alright. I don’t take oaths easily. The actually binding ones. I’ve got one with Divayth. This will be a different one, for obvious reasons.”

I looked over to Divayth, who was making an effort at not looking too touched, and shot me an ironic smile. “Go ahead,” he said. “I have a rather good idea what you want to do. I approve of it.”

Knows me too well. I turned back to Sil. “One of the kind where you get some help fulfilling them, but if you go back on them, you screw yourself over.”

“Akin to a _sosmir_ ,” Sil said, mustering me. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t expect anything. You’ve already given me much more than I had any right to expect.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “This’ll make life easier for all of us. Counter-intuitive, but it’s true. So. Divayth was worried on some level that we’d harm each other, perhaps that prophecy would make it happen or some such. As if I could harm you. Well, that’s out of the question. So here’s what I’m saying. I will not just not harm you, I’ll protect you. If you need help, I’m there. I won’t get in conflict with Divayth, but that won’t be an issue, this is just for the record here. Otherwise…” I shrugged. “I’ll do what’s necessary. I’m kind of good at that, if not at much else.”

There was the expected silence and processing time. Then Sil said, “And I will grant you the same.” A small smile. “Including a similar restriction. I won’t allow conflicts with Salyn, but other than that, I will do what is necessary. This time…” His voice faltered. He tried again. “This time I will keep it.”

I smiled. “I know. Don’t worry anymore.”

“Good,” Divayth said, “then that old matter is settled at last.”

“Told you,” Salyn said. Turned to Sil. “Told you both.” Turned to me. “You know, I kept saying it’d be alright, I’ve met you after all. They were both so afraid of destiny and the dark parts of mortal nature… For both of you, too. Now can we start acting like normal people? I know, this is coming from a champion of Sheogorath. That should tell you how stupid this was. I shouldn’t be the one to have to tell you that.”

I snorted. “Sheogorath provides cures, as well, and lucidity in new original ways, and insight you fail at when you let the world cloud your eyes. Isn’t that what you say?”

He grinned. “Might be.”

I looked at him more closely. “You wouldn’t know anything about Daedric research specimens kept in a frost chamber in the basement of Tel Fyr, would you?”

“I _have_ visited the place, of course. But come on, be sensible, why’d I help Nocturnal? You know I’ve got a grudge. And not a small one either.”

His voice was just a bit too monotonous to be genuine.

His grin showed me he’d guessed my thoughts. “Then again,” he added, “can’t let old grudges get in the way of things too much, can you?”


End file.
